“She has said that I might see her to-morrow afternoon,” said Kit. “I’m to go to walk with her; I told her that I must see her where there’d be no risk of interruption. I know it’s no use.”
“I’m sure of that, poor Kit!” agreed Joan. “Anne is not to be moved.”
“And she is dead right!” added Antony. “I’m bound to say I think she’s dead right, and no end of a trump to stick to her principles. I’m sorry enough, Kit, and it seems mean in me to be so happy with my little old lady here when you’re playing in such hard luck, but honour among thieves can’t be more binding than among honest folk. I took off my hat to Anne Dallas when the trouble began, and I’m bare-headed yet, figuratively speaking.”
“Easy enough to admire a martyrdom when you’re in heaven,” growled Kit.
Little Anne, so absorbed in the conversation, forgot Barbara, and the baby, still uncertain in her balance, lost it and struck her chin against a chair. Her wail aroused Joan to the presence of little Anne. As she rescued her child, more injured in feelings than in flesh, Joan glanced sharply at her small sister, wondering what she had heard and understood. Nothing could have been more blank of other interest than Barbara’s possible hurt than was the face that Anne turned up to her sister.
“We played house, Joan, and Babs was my child,” she said. “I don’t think she ’xactly understands, but she played nicely. She sort of tipped over, but not far. I don’t believe it hurt her badly.”
“You kept her so quiet that I forgot you both,” said Joan. “Did the time seem long to you, Anne?”
“Mercy, no! I was awf’ly interested,” said little Anne, truthfully. “Maybe I’ll be a Sister of Charity instead of a Carmelite; then I could have an asylum. Babies are so dear!”
And Joan dared ask no more lest she should hint what, after all, Anne might not have heard.
The next afternoon, strong in her righteous purpose, and, little-Anne-like, unassailed by doubt when she was convinced of her facts, little Anne set forth to visit Mr. Latham without taking any one, even her mother, into her confidence. She passed Anne, looking white and miserable, but with the light of determination in her eyes, as she turned into Latham Street.